Seventh year Success
by Trapped in Icy Flame
Summary: Follow the trio through their last year at Hogwarts. Three tales of starcrossed love and typical teenage angst such as hair chaging color with emotions and strange rashes that won't go away.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter but my Co-authoress does, wait scratch that she doesn't own it either but she does covet it with the same passion that she covets anything shiny (as do I if it comes down to it).

Hermione Granger hated Ron Weasley with a passion she normally reserved for lima beans. If Ron Weasley ever found out he would be flattered and very afraid. Harry Potter had no idea why Hermione Granger was hated Ron Weasley but he did know that the Weasley red the Hermione had dies her hair to suited her skin tone very nicely. Fred and George Weasley had no idea where their experimental shampoo had gotten to and they were starting to panic. And Ginny Weasley knew what all of her brothers (and her brothers best friend) did not, Hermione Granger was going to kill them all (not excluding pig but possibly Hedwig because Hedwig had nothing to do with anything).

As Hermione attempted to stalk menacingly across the room she spotted her reflection in the mirror she was shocked (the red looked better on her then on any of those goddamned Weasley's). She watched as her hair turned from red to a sickeningly bright shade of orange. At once she was flooded with anger again and her hair turned back to the Gryffindor scarlet. "Ronald Weasley, come out from behind Harry and I might not give you detention when we get back to school."

Ron appeared to be weighing the consequences and deciding after a very brief mental debate that Hermione wouldn't really abuse her head girl privileges like that continued to hide behind Harry. "Alright then Harry, move out of the way or you'll get detention as well." Her voice was cool and calm; always the worst kind of anger and Harry (feeling the briefest ping of sympathy for Ron) did as she told him to.

"Some friend you are, you'll stand up to he-who-must-not-be-named but not Hermione?" Ron muttered, his voice lacked true conviction on the last part. He would rather face Voldemort too, all he could come up with was a few hours of torture before he would let him slip off into endless oblivion (he may be an evil sadistic prick but he lacked the mercilessness that seemed to be bred into females). Ron stood up to his full height (6'3 and a half) hoping to intimidate the much smaller Hermione with his sheer size. It wouldn't work Hermione was too used to being surrounded by tall people. Ron made a mental note to try next time to look small, harmless and cute when Hermione marched straight up to him and yanked on his ear. Pulling him down to her level (5'4 even).

"Ronald Weasley let me see your wand." Hermione's voice was still even and Ron wondered whether he should do as she said or let her continue to torture him. She began twisting his ear and he immediately held it out to her. She snatched it and let go of his ear immediately marching up to her room with it.

Ron looked over at Harry and felt a strange foreboding "Don't reckon I should have done that mate." Harry smiled his you-are-such-an-idiot-but-I'm-too-nice-to-say-that-so-I'll-smile-this-patronizing-smile-instead smile and Ron felt a sinking in his gut.

Hermione returned downstairs after about an hour her hair a muted yellow (not blond but yellow) and flounced over to Harry and Ron, she handed Harry Ron's wand and flounced to sit next to Tonks. Harry handed Ron his wand back mutely and waited with almost baited breath to see what would happen next. For the next five minutes Ron simply stared at it very hesitant to try a spell. Then he steeled himself and waved his wand muttering a quick acio. Nothing happened, the plate he was trying to acio didn't even begin to move. And there were no explosions (something that greatly disappointed Fred and George who had now figured out where their shampoo had gotten to).

Ron cursed eloquently and went to get the plate himself filling it and sitting back down to shovel the food into his mouth. "What do you reckon she did to it mate?" Harry shrugged and whipped out his own wand to acio a plate. Ginny stood up and walked past stumbling into Harry and pressing a note into his palm at the same time. Harry waited until Ginny had walked past before unfolding the note which said simply 'tell Ron to look in his charms book for this year'. Harry passed the note to Ron who stared blankly at it before nodding and continuing to stuff food into his mouth.

When all the food had been consumed and Ron finally came up for a breather, he didn't seem to remember that he was supposed to check his Charms book.

"Ron, mate," Harry said, seizing the opportunity, "Don't we have to finish up packing?"

Ron's face was blanker than the scrolls of parchment in Harry's trunk. This was a difficult task, considering the fact that he had only bought them this morning and had yet to open the packaging. "Nah, I finished packing ages ago." Ron replied.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, shooting him Meaningful Looks.

Ron's comprehension dodged the Meaning in the looks and eyed him skeptically. "Yeah, mate, you were there, remember? Why are you pushing this?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the precise moment that Harry darted his eyes in her direction. She gave a little smirk his way and lowered her eyes to her book. Her hair was the plum shade of satisfaction.

"Ron," Harry said, exasperated, "We _need _to finish _packing, _now." His eyes nearly boggled out of his head with the excess Meaning he slathered on.

"Are you all right, mate? You look purple. Did you get a bad pudding at dinner or some-ow!"

The 'ow' was where Harry finally lost patience and elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"We've a few last minute things to pack." Ron announced to the room at large as comprehension dawned. "You know us, always delaying to the last minute." This was not strictly true. Well, it was, or it would have been, had Mrs. Weasley not screamed at them hours ago that if they didn't pack right this instant, there would be no pie, and Mrs. Weasley made excellent pie.

The two boys trudged upstairs with a slightly guilty air. "Here," Harry said, pulling out his copy of Charmed Life by Freya Grendel, "Take a look at this." It was opened to the first page. The passage began with the words "WHY ISN'T MY WAND WORKING?" in large bold letters. At the time, it seemed like fate. At the very least, it was luck finally lending a hand to help a bloke out once in a while.

Looking back on it later, they would frown and pout and sulk with dark expressions and mutter about "that evil creature." But, at the time, it seemed like fate.

"'An inactive wand can mean several things.'" Harry read. "'First and foremost is the possibility that the magic has gone from the center. This is highly unusual and therefore its chances of happening to the average wizard are very low. It is unlikely that anyone who doesn't use their wand a hundred times an hour to use up the magic in their wand. Therefore it most often happens to acrobats at wizard circuses. It requires the purchase of a new wand. If you are not and acrobat at a wizarding circus, you may breathe a sigh of relief.' See, it says right here you can breathe a sigh of relief." Ron was many things, but an acrobat in a wizarding circus he was not.

"'The second, far more likely, possibility is that someone has performed a Locking Charm. Locking Charms are very easy to reverse. If you know someone else has had your wand and it has not worked since, this is probably what has happened.' Ah, there it is!" Harry continued. "All you need is someone else to touch the tip of their wand to yours, and say 'Kilchamora' and you'll be all set and working again."

"There, now." Ron heaved a sigh of relief. It may be that he was actually relieved, or maybe he was just having an extremely delayed reaction to the book's order. "There, now." He repeated, overcome with an emotion that was either relief or pride. Considering what they were now doing, Harry would have voted for relief.

"Just hand me your wand?" Harry asked. Ron had been holding it protectively since they sat down, occasionally lifting it up and staring at it from all angles and then hugging it tight again.

"Sure." The redhead replied, handing his wand to his friend who took it.

"Kilchamora!" Harry whispered, touching his own wand tip to tip with Ron's.

A fine silver mist rose off the wand and hung like a cloud over the place where the wands met. After a moment, is dissipated. Harry handed Ron's wand back to its owner. "Why'd she do that, I wonder?" he thought aloud. "It didn't seem to have much point. D'you reckon she thought we'd never look in the book and you'd be magicless for eternity?"

"Dunno." Ron shrugged. "I'm just glad that everything's back to normal with my wand." He studied his wand appreciatively before tucking it away. "You're right, though, mate. It didn't seem to do much. All we had to do was thumb through the book and do the Unlocking Charm."

"Not even that. Not much thumbing through, really, it was right at the front of the book." Harry reminded helpfully.

Ron looked for a moment like he was trying to remember some vital bit of information, grasp a concept that was just beyond his mind's reach. He grappled with himself for a while, then conceded defeat to the thought that eluded him and forgot it even existed. "Bloody pointless. D'you think she's losing her touch?"

"I reckon so, maybe something happened this summer or her hair dye cut of circulation to her brain. I wonder where she bought it, it is very unique isn't it?"

Ron laughed nervously as he scratched the back of his head "That it is." Harry looked at him suspiciously, Ron was using The laugh. The laugh is different from other laughs, when Ron laughs The laugh it means that Ron is hiding something.

"So why was she mad at you anyway mate?"

Ron laughed The laugh again before replying "Who knows mate I mean she's a _girl _since when do girls need a reason to be mad? She probably thinks I called her fat or some other such nonsense." Ron neglected to mention that he did in fact call her fat only hours before she stormed at him. He doubted that was the reason anyway.

Harry looked at him dubiously, Hermione had never seemed to be that interested in what people thought about her but he decided not to press it (maybe Hermione's _girl _hormones were finally kicking in. "Yeah that's probably it, lets get some sleep."

"Yeah, night mate. Nox." Ron turned off the light and settled in for a nice rest not feeling the itch that would plague him for a long time begin.

Hermione awoke feeling quite contented until she looked at her hair, which was once again a pale, icy blue. It flared quickly to red as she was overcome by anger but quickly faded into plum as she thought about her revenge. She hastily changed into jeans and a pink jacket that had once looked very good on her (unfortunately now it contrasted with her hair). She jammed her wand into her pocket and went to eat breakfast. All through out breakfast Hermione watched (her hair now a strange shade of lavender) as Ron started to scratch his leg.

Before long they were boarding the train. Harry and Ron were glad to realize (for two totally different reasons) that Hermione wasn't angry anymore and that her hair was plum once again (they weren't quite sure what that meant but they knew that plum was better then red). They were lucky enough to find an empty compartment which they hastily staked their claim in before Hermione left to do something (it had something to do with the fact that she was head girl). They leaned back in their chairs and began discussing quidditch (they needed two new beaters and another chaser Yes Ginny would be good at that).

Hermione glided into the heads compartment scanning automatically for her Y-gene counterpart. Seeing that he was not their her hair turned a light green for an instant before her disappointment turned to contentment (these chairs were extraordinarily comfortable) and her hair turned light blue again. The panel swung open once again and professors McGonagall and Snape walked in and dread filled her (her hair was the nicest shade of raven's wing black). If Snape was here that meant she would have to work with a sniveling Slytherin she hated most of the brats (most meaning all except for the first years they haven't shown enough of the characteristics yet). She began running down the options, Malfoy smart but Dumbledore wouldn't pair her with the enemy would he? Maybe ha was going for the whole friends close, enemies closer approach but she had no desire to keep Malfoy close on any level. Crabbe, too stupid. Goyle, the same. Pansy might or might not be a guy but relatively smart (although not smart enough to stay away from Malfoy). Zabini, pretty sure that she is a girl but might be wrong never really got the chance to tell nice name though. Damn there was no one else she would have to work with Malfoy, she barely suppressed a gag.

When the panel slid open she didn't lift her eyes, she had no desire to see Malfoy's proud smirk. Snape's oily voice began "Mr. Zambini you are late." Zabini? But Zabini was a girl! Hermione's hair turned bright orange as she realized how far off she was, damn it she had been so sure that he was a she. She looked up, and up, and up and cursed, what was it with all the tall men? She could see why she had thought he was a girl in earlier years, his face was more feminine then her own and the shoulder length, wavy (gorgeous) ebony hair didn't help. But when looking below his face there was no doubt that he was a man (women do not grow muscles like that!). "Now to get this meeting started, we have ground rules to set up. You as heads can give and take points as well as assign detentions but if you abuse this privilege we will yank you from your position. The heads no longer have their own quarters (you will sleep with the rest of your classmates) but you do have a room which is to be used exclusively by you two where you can plan events. You have to plan graduation and two school dances. One around the winter holidays for the whole school and another at the end of the year for seventh years only. Do you have any questions?" Snape's voice was still horrendously oily and Hermione wondered briefly if it was caused by the excess oil from his hair seeping down into his throat.

"No professor." Hermione and Blaise answered together. They looked at each other and Hermione fought down the instinctual need to glare at the Slytherin (bloody assholes the whole lot of them) when he sent her a little smile. She even managed to work up a smile of her own and was pleasantly surprised when her hair turned from black back to icy blue. She looked automatically at professor McGonagall who only raised an eyebrow at her hair.

"You are free to go now. The prefects will patrol the corridors you go sit with your friends, this is your last ride to Hogwarts after all." McGonagall's voice was still severe but Hermione didn't waste time trying to figure out why (it was probably the bun causing her such pain that she couldn't speak any other way). She walked quickly (head girls did _not_ run) down the corridor back to the compartment that contained her friends.

"Have I missed the Annual Asshole Approach?" Her opening line upon entering the compartment, slightly gratified that Malfoy was in the compartment wand pointing at Harry. It was nice to know that some things never change (it would change of course after they had killed Malfoy and all his death eater buddies but she would cross that bridge when she came to it). "Oh I haven't I'm glad I wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to fraternize with the ferret." He spun and pointed his wand at her "Now there is no reason to be rude Malfoy didn't your mother ever teach you not to point your wand at someone until the small talk was over? I thought Malfoy's were gentlemen." He snarled and put his wand down as her hair turned into lavender amusement.

"Hello Mudblood. Nice to see the you-know-who hasn't killed you yet. How are you? I'm fine thank you. Fine weather we're having isn't it? Are you happy now? The Malfoy's are far more noble then you will ever be! Expelliarmus!" He looked shocked when Hermione did a little flick with her wand and deflected his curse sending Neville's wand into his hand instead.

"That's just insulting, did you honestly think that would work on me? I've know the counter to that since we learned it. I wonder if you do? Expelliarmus!" With a flick of her wand both Malfoy and Neville's wands flew neatly into her hands. Handing Neville his back she turned back to Malfoy. "Apparently they don't teach the dogs of Voldemort such useful tricks. That's what you are isn't it Malfoy? A dog of Voldemort heeling and fetching at his command, I wonder if you know any other tricks. Sit boy!" Malfoy started to sit before he straightened and glared at Hermione. "So you don't sit but I bet you can fetch." Holding his wand out to him as she would a bone to a dog she turned and threw it down the corridor. Malfoy hurried after it, making sure to give Hermione a hard shove into the door on his way out. Hermione looked up, dazed after he left a dark bruise already forming on her brow. "So he still doesn't fight fair, eh?"

Ron snorted. "Hermione," he said impatiently, "It's Malfoy. He wouldn't know fair if it bit him on the arse." He scratched distractedly at his leg while he spoke.

She considered this a minute. "True." She replied, sitting down. "So, do we have any sweets yet?"

Harry passed her the bag he'd filled with his purchases from the witch with the sweet trolley. "I thought you frowned upon rotting our teeth with sugar."

"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean I can't do it." Hermione replied tautly, settling into her seat after selecting a Pumpkin Pasty.

Harry rolled his eyes. "How'd it go in there?" He asked curiously. "Who's Head Boy?"

"The bad news is, it's a Slytherin." She replied tauntingly, toying with the wrapper of her Pasty.

A groan echoed around the compartment as the Gryffindors registered what this meant for them.

"The good news is, it isn't Malfoy." They sighed with satisfaction, even though they should have realized that there was no way Malfoy could be conferencing with her and here mocking them at the same time.

"Come on, Hermione, who is it?" Ron burst out. "Your hair is purple and you're smiling. This is torture. Just tell us which Slytherin it is so we can prepare ourselves before we have to face the git with a big shiny badge on his chest." Hermione's hair flicked to a deeper shade of plum as she saw him scratching at a spot on his arm while he watched her intently.

"It's Blaise Zabini." She said, finally.

Harry blinked. "Zabini? I thought Zabini was a girl."

"So did I!"

"He isn't. He's Head Boy."

"I knew he wasn't a girl." Neville said timidly.

They all swiveled around to face him. "What?" The trio asked, in perfect unison.

"How?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

"I saw him in the restroom once."

"When?" Harry asked.

"Sometime in second year." Neville answered sheepishly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I accused him of being in the wrong lavatory, and he let it off on me. He was right angry." The pudgy boy shrugged. "But he got tall after that. If he weren't so quiet in class, you'd all have noticed. I mean, he's as tall as Ron."

The other three Gryffindors looked at each other for a minute, then shrugged and let it go.

"So, Neville," Ron started, helping himself to a chocolate frog, "Have you got Trevor?"

"Yes." Neville answered, putting a hand in his pocket. "Want me to take him out?"

"No!" Harry answered, a little too quickly. "We, erm, just wanted to be sure you hadn't lost him. We don't want to get all the way to Hogwarts and then realize he's missing. We'd have to stay on the train and look for him."

"Okay."

When they pulled up to the school, they did realize he was missing. However, there wasn't much staying on the train to be done, for, luckily, he was right under Neville's seat, asleep. He had, to all appearances, been there for some time.

"Merlin, Neville, you were s'posed to keep a hold of him." Ron said, once they were in a thestral-borne carriage.

"I'm sorry. I forgot."

"Blimey if that doesn't defeat the whole purpose." Ron replied irritably, picking at a place on his side.

"Now, Ron." Hermione said, in that I'm-Head-Girl-and-I'll-have-none-of-that-hair-dying-nonsense-of-yours way of hers, "Neville's found Trevor and we're all off the train and happy. No harm done."

By the time they reached the school, Peeves had obviously already been at work. The entire Entry hall was covered in crepe paper and stuffed elephants. Pink stuffed elephants. "Blimey, Peeves is at work early this year." Ron said, as a sparkler went whizzing past him and nearly caught his already flame-red hair on fire.

"Yes, yes." Hermione said impatiently. "Now let's get in to the Great Hall and sit down." Her hair, now that they'd looked at her, had turned an unpleasant greenish brown. They didn't know what that meant and didn't want to. Needless to say, they hurried over to the Gryffindor table pretty quickly to comply with her wishes. The Sorting Hat was soon brought out and placed on a stool in front of some rather green looking first years.

The rip over the brim opened and began to sing it's special annual hat song.

"Now I have a story of old

One that I know you have never been told

A story of Gryffindor and Slytherin

Of the perils of being too driven

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw

Of the four founders fatal flaw

Gryffindor was brave 'tis true

But he was arrogant through and through

Slytherin was cunning, aye

But in the end he would only lie

And Hufflepuff was loving and kind

To cruelty she was totally blind

Ravenclaw was totally brilliant

But she was simply not resilient

Together each talent was shown

They separated and flaws were known

They allowed themselves to fall apart

And they shattered Hogwarts' heart

Remember now what I say

Together you can keep the evil at bay

I warned you before

You knew how to stop this war

I hope you recall

Before Hogwarts falls

That arrogance

Is the same as ignorance

They go hand in hand

I am done now

Set me upon your brow

So that I may tell you

Into what house you will debut"


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note: O.K. Just want to let you know that we are totally ignoring the Half Blood Prince! And we have a fanart contest going on. Send me the links too your pictures (Another heros angl yahoo .com without the spaces) and the winner gets a character in the story. There would be cash prizes if we had cash.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter or Get over it or any other of the songs mentioned in this chapter. My friend Mi-Mi owns all of them, she's filthy rich, sue her!

Hermione was very angry indeed, if her vibrant crimson hair was anything to go by.

Some Slytherins had invented a little chant that they thought was funny about her hair, and had begun singing it loudly whenever she walked by. She tried to use her normal tactic and pretend that it didn't bother her, but they could tell it did by her emotionally controlled hair color.

Ron wanted to curse their wands so that they'd have to start pulling them out of their arses every time they stood up. This was not because their little song really bothered him- he'd actually laughed at it once. The reason he currently wanted to hex the would-be troubadours into oblivion was that whenever they sang, Hermione got upset. And when Hermione got upset, she needed someone to take it out on. And her choice in this particular situation was Ron.

Because it was Ron's fault, and he knew it, and he knew he shouldn't be afraid of her because she couldn't do any serious physical damage. He could totally take her in a fistfight, and Harry had taken to confiscating her wands right after classes because Hermione wouldn't hex him. But he'd be damned if Hermione couldn't wield her wit into a deadly whip of words. Not for the first time he wished he was smarter, and that he wouldn't get in huge trouble for cursing the Slytherins.

They were sitting at dinner and Hermione's hair was slowly getting redder and redder and the little darts Hermione was sending out with her eyes were getting sharper and sharper. He glanced momentarily towards the doors to the great hall, gauging an escape route. But all thoughts of escape, all thoughts at all really fled his head as he gazed upon the vision that had just entered through the doors.

He would have sworn that a golden light surrounded her and that as soon as she walked through the door birds started to sing and flowers began to pop up from the ground. Except that had this actually happened he was sure that other people would have noticed, and no one around him looked like they saw anything odd. The heavenly music that had filled his ears came to a jarring halt when he looked across the table from him. Harry who had been looking very depressed lately was talking to Ginny and Hermione was leaning over and pouring something in his drink. That wasn't what worried him though, she had explained about the potion and its effects too him at a time when she was not utterly furious with him (it was a cheery potion, weird name amazing results). What stopped him dead in his tracks and sent icy fear throughout his body was that while she was slipping Harry the potion she was also slipping her wand from his pocket.

He opened his mouth but no sound came out. Then it was too late. The wand was in Hermione's hand and a truly Slytherin smirk was across her face. With a flick of her wand his mouth was shut tight and then against his will he got up and started walking back to the dorm with another flick. Hermione stood up and followed and no one but a single Slytherin noticed the smirk across her face. He shuddered briefly and reminded himself not to ever piss her off before turning and engaging a pretty sixth year in a friendly flirting match.

Ron found himself able to talk just as the portrait closed up behind them. "N-now, Hermione, don't do anything rash…" He pleaded, swallowing hard and backing away from her as she advanced, a predatory look in her eyes. "Please, I didn't think it would last, don't, don't- ARGH."

Looking down his body, he found himself in purple sequined high heels, black thigh-highs, boxers, and a pink lacy shirt. In glitter across the front, it said "Your Wildest Dream." Looking in the mirror, he was horrified to note that he was wearing makeup. His nails were a fluoro pink and there was a little flowery barrette in his hair. On his back was a kick me sign, though he wouldn't learn that until much, much later.

You- you- you-" Ron floundered helplessly. "You-"

Hermione smirked and slipped her wand in her pocket, hair turning a very self-satisfied sunny color.

"You- you-" Ron continued, lost for words to describe the horror that was him. "Evil WOMAN!" He shouted, before finding his voice gone again and his body moving helplessly for the portrait hole.

He marched down to the great hall, Hermione gliding happily behind him, her hair still sunny. He realized that he should probably be happy that she was happy and that he could make her so. He should probably think that if a little embarrassment on his part could make her happy it was a small price to pay. It probably made him a bad friend that he didn't feel that way at all.

When he got there he found his mouth pried open by an invisible hand and words flew out. "Draco Malfoy shag me, shag me now!" He turned and glared at her before opening his mouth to fix that statement but all that came out was "Draco Malfoy shag me, shag me now!" He then found the spell keeping him in place lifted so he ran out of the great hall as fast as he possible could in four-inch-high stiletto heels. He went in bed and after many counter jinxes managed to get the clothes and make-up off and as he changed into his pajama's he still didn't notice the kick me sign attached to his back.

Back in the great hall Harry who was under the effects of the potion was laughing maniacally even after the meanest Slytherin had stopped. Ginny rolled her eyes and helped Hermione, who's hair was still bright yellow carry him up to the common room.

When Ronald Weasley woke up the first thing he noticed was that his back hurt, a lot. The second thing he noticed was that he was wearing a long, Victorian-styled blue dress. He managed to stop himself from screaming and waking the other boys and hurried to the bathroom. What he saw in the full-length mirror there was almost enough to make him faint, the extra-tight corset around his stomach was enough to push him over the edge.

When he woke up about five minutes later he looked in the mirror again. He had light blue eye makeup and lipstick on with glitter all over his face. The dress he was wearing was also light blue and it matched perfectly the huge fairy wings coming out of his back. He opened his mouth in a silent scream and ran down to the great hall (a move he realized later was not the brightest). Where Hermione's hair turned from bright red to sunny yellow instantly.

He tried to bellow 'HERMIONE' but all that came out was a whispered "Do it!" And his butt started to sway. Then he heard the Slytherins who hadn't noticed him yet singing the song the had made up about Hermione's hair. He couldn't help but break out into a loud chorus of

"It's fun to be a Fairy

And fly from town to town

Our fairy dust will keep you up you won't come down

Oh yeah

It's fun to be a fairy, and wear such pretty things

It's fun to carry love juice on your Fairy wings

What fools these mortals be

They try to play at love and make a comedy

Why can't these mortals learn

A fairy up above will never crash and burn

Oh it's fun to be a fairy

Ooh Ooh Ooh yeah

It's fun to be a Fairy

FAIRY POWER BABY!"

By the time he had finished his song everyone had turned to stare at him and started to laugh hysterically. He flushed red and stormed out of the hall, noticing angrily that Hermione's hair was still a very bright yellow.

It stayed that way all day, and Ron began to notice a pattern. Every half an hour, his outfit warped into something even more devastating, although the wings seemed to find no way to be more devastating, and simply remained. They did change color, though, with Hermione's mood, if he was in the same room as she was.

Every hour or so, he'd burst out with some catchphrase that had absolutely nothing to do with what he was doing at the time. Each time this happened, a new flood of marigold happiness settled itself over Hermione, and a new shade of embarrassed red darkened Ron's ears. Ron had never been so mortified as when he got three days' worth of detention for screaming out "SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY!" In the middle of a complex Transfiguration spell.

Most of the teachers were fighting back laughter the entire time he was in their class. And giving Hermione points for doing the smallest of things. Snape took away twenty points and didn't bother to hide his laughter as Ron burst out with "HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!" Professor Flitwick asked him to give a demonstration just so he could parade him around in front of the entire class.

By the end of the afternoon, his shins were bruised and he was very grumpy indeed.

"Why do people keep kicking me?" He asked, annoyed.

Hermione gave a delighted little giggle and poured herself some pumpkin juice. Her hair hadn't changed from sunny yellow all day long and the color looked awful on Ron's wings.

It was Harry who took pity on him and gave Hermione back her wand with strict orders to take the sign off Ron's back, right now. He had no clue what charm she had used to put it on, and he had no clue how to take it off. Hermione sighed and took off the sign, her hair turning the light green of disappointment for an instant before Ron's clothes changed again. He was now wearing a bright yellow, very tight, very short, very rubber dress, that looked a lot like a rain coat. He was wearing matching boots, still tight with four-inch heels on them (which enabled him to tower even more over Hermione and to top it all off his wand had turned into a bright yellow umbrella. Hermione giggled again and Ron's wings turned a bright yellow to match his clothing.

"Come on boys" she whispered, hastily getting to her feet and dragging Ron and Harry along with her. "I have something I just have to tell you." Harry got up willingly enough but Ron stayed planted in his seat.

He meant to say 'I haven't eaten a meal in a day Hermione because of your stupid spell which you won't remove!' instead he started singing "It's raining men!" All the while getting up and dancing with Harry, and Neville and even Malfoy when he wandered past their table to make a snide comment. Ron decided that he would sneak down to the kitchens later and followed Hermione meekly.

She dragged them up to her Head girl dorm and Ron gaped at the freakishly large amounts of books she had lining all the walls and still piled in heaps all over the room. "Where did all these books come from?" Was the first thing out of his mouth and he couldn't help but wish the spell had decided to make him sing here, with his (most of the time) friends. Hermione smiled at Harry and her hair became the hot pink it did whenever she was overwhelmed by feelings of familial love (Ron scowled at his wings).

"Harry gave them too me. They were in Sirius' library but Harry didn't want them. I only brought the most important ones though, I have loads more at home." Ron gaped. "That's why I brought you here, anyway. One of these books has all the research they did to create the Marauders Map and to become Animagi and I thought that we should study it. Because it really would be quite useful you know. And its pretty easy once you know how to do it. I made copies. Both of you study them, don't worry about the potions, I'll make them. And also I want to try to make a marauders map except on a larger scale. So I'm going to be studying a lot along with the potion, so don't expect any homework help. Ron your wings are here to stay until my hair changes back but your clothing will go back to normal after you prove to me that you know all the information in this packet.

Ron frowned. "Hermione," He said patiently, "That's a lot of work. D'you really expect me to read and learn it all? It's impossible! I mean, c'mon, I don't even-" What he 'didn't even' was never to be said, however, because at that moment a cleverly levitated heavy packet hit him in the middle of the forehead.

"Okay," He said dazedly, "I guess you do expect me to read and learn it all."

Harry grabbed his packet out of the air before it began resorting to blows.

Hermione beamed at them both. "Thanks, you're the best. I'm sure you'll find the reading very informational and-"

Neither boy was listening. They seemed to have a mental block regarding the word 'informational.' This, however, didn't mean she'd stopped talking

"-and I expect you to-"

Nope, still talking shop.

"-and are you even listening to me at all?"

"No." Her friends replied in unison, and for some reason, she wasn't mad. She laughed along with them.

Hanging around with boys so much must really be getting to her. Either that or she found Ron's new outfit very amusing. It was probably the second because once you hit six years of friendship you probably have suffered all the damage you are going too. And Ron's new outfit really was quite funny. He was wearing a lime green mini-skirt with a bright blue top that said "Fuck Voldemort; literally" Harry looked at him for a minute deciding whether he should laugh or be annoyed at Hermione for laughing. But when he looked at Ron's very mismatched clothing and wings he couldn't help but start laughing hysterically along with Hermione.

Ron scowled and turned his back on his two friends who were rolling on the floor clutching their stomachs. He stalked back through the corridors before he was stopped be a noxious, oily voice. "Mr. Weasley stop where you are. Turn around." Ron did so, still scowling. He looked at Snape's happy smile and felt like throwing up. "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor, and two nights detention with Mr. Filch for violation of the schools dress code."

"Hogwarts doesn't have a dress code!" Ron protested.

"You really should read Weasley, it's mentioned very clearly in _'Hogwarts a History'_. There is to be no profanity or mention of whoever the dark lord happens to be at the time on clothing. You are in violation of both of these rules."

Ron opened his mouth to say something that would no doubt lose him more house points and add another detention to his plate. Instead he ended up doing a song and dance routine to the Backstreet boys '_I want it that way'_.

Which didn't really help his detention record any either, he suspected, once his total number of detentions acquired for the day was seven.

Later that day, he was trudging up to the kitchens, Harry in tow. No Hermione this time- she'd had to read more of The Packet. She was bloody obsessed with that packet. And this was only day one! Ron shuddered to think how awful she'd get about it by the time they'd all fnished it. She'd probably get all starry eyed and start singing sonnets to it.

If you could sing a sonnet.

"Really, mate, I don't see why she's torturing you like this, it's completely-" Harry could no longer stifle his laughter as Ron's ensemble became a blue velvet ballroom gown and a canary yellow feather boa.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want." Ron said grumpily. "But when I get these ruddy wings off, I'll show you-

Let's get physical, physical! -Oh hell." The redhead put a hand to his head and sighed. "I need some quality comfort food, mate."

"Bacon and spice cake?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as they came to a halt in front of the painting of the bowl of fruit.

"Yeah." Ron said, tripping over a heel as he clambered to the door. "Sounds perfect."

While Harry and Ron were shoveling down disgusting comfort foods Hermione was scribbling notes in the margins of the notebook. She had already started the potion, which would take about six months of very hard work to brew, and was now looking for ways to expand the Marauder's map. She scowled and her hair turned bright red when Blaise called up the stairs. "Hermione! We need to work!"

She brushed off her anger, he was right they did need to work, and finished her note before running down the stairs.

"What do we have to do?" Her hair was back to its original color for the moment. "Oh god the dance! I totally forgot. It's next week. We'll need…" Hermione's hair was green as she launched into a complicated discussion with her counterpart.

"Hermione." Blaise interrupted, blue eyes sharp and pointed. "Slow down. I can barely understand you, much less take notes, when you're talking like that."

Hermione's mouth opened, then snapped shut. Finally, she said "You… take notes? On what I'm saying?" Her hair was bleached to a stunned white, with a hint of silver amazement.

He gave her an odd look. "Yeah, of course I do. I can't order the party supplies if I don't remember what you told me to get."

Chocolate eyes wide, Hermione gasped. "Well, this is a new discovery." She said breathily. "How delightful. You're the first person I think I've ever met who actually listens when I talk about important things. How unexpected. I treasure this moment."

Blaise again gave her a very pointed look. "You're a bit off, y'know?" He said conversationally. "In the head. Do your friends know about this? Should I put a bulletin outside the Gryffindor common room?"

Hermione flushed; her hair turned a very angry magenta. "Well… well… at least I'm not a Slytherin!" She turned on her heel and sped off, in the vague general direction of the library.

Blaise sighed to himself. Yes, that one was a loon, all right.

Her pink hair was tainted a delicate lavender, and he was pretty sure it wasn't embarrassment.


	3. Chapter 3

To the ever loyal gold fish WE LOVE YOU and your wonderfully awful drawing, don't be offended we really did love it. I giggled for ages. And you are welcome to all of mi-mi's money if you can find it because when rummaging through her purse I unearthed a traveler's check and a lot of trash. If you can find it, she owes me two dollars, after I take that its all yours!

Hermione took a tack from her mouth and shoved it into the ceiling, hard. Her jammed thumb was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as the tack poked through ancient wood and plaster. She held the crepe paper in one hand and the next tack in the other as she searched for the next spot to pin the streamers up before stepping down and moving the ladder.

Leaning far to the left, she managed to hold the magically shimmering crepe paper (it constantly flashed all the colors of the rainbow) up just where she needed it, without overbalancing. Unfortunately, this awkward angle made it nearly impossible to drive the tack in. Pushing with all her might, she managed both to poke herself in the thumb with the sharp point of it, and to bend the tack in nearly a right angle before it fell with a muted clink to the floor.

Sighing and sucking blood from her thumb, she let go of the streamers and limbed down the ladder. She spat the tacks into the palm of her hand, swallowed hard and licked her dry lips. Picking the bent tack up, she tossed it into a nearby trash can. She then moved the ladder seven inches to the left and climbed back up.

She was decorating for the pre-dance party- seventh years and dates only. It would be held in a miniature banquet hall at five the evening of the dance. She still had about a week to go, but with the amount of help she was getting from Blaise, she would need every minute. It wasn't that he wouldn't do the work, it was that he wouldn't do it in a way that met her standards. He just wanted the job done; he wasn't always willing to put in the sweat and toil that she was, and it annoyed her. Actually, pretty much anything the Slytherin did annoyed her.

And it didn't have anything to do with him calling her a headcase.

Of course not.

It had everything to do with the fact that her counterpart was a lying, cheating Slytherin. Her annoyance with him had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he thought her a complete and utter nutjob who belonged in St. Mungo's before she hurt someone.

Even if those weren't his words, exactly. He'd said that she was "a bit off, y'know? In the head." Which was worse if you really thought about it.

Which of course she hadn't.

Hermione jabbed another tack angrily into the woodwork as Blaise sauntered into the room, surrounded by a gaggle of chattering girls- mostly Slytherins, but a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had grouped around the aristocratic youth as well. Hermione even thought she saw one of her dorm-mates in the crowd, but the girl ducked her head quickly after spotting Hermione, so it was hard to tell.

Blaise stopped dead. He had obviously not counted on her being there. "Well, hello there, fellow Head." He greeted, that charming smile painted on his handsome features- No, damn it Hermione, you don't think he's attractive, he's a dirty rotten Slytherin scoundrel. "What are you doing here?" He asked, running his eyes over her.

She ignored him while she continued to struggle with the mutant crepe paper, and he looked up at her struggle with no small amount of pleasure. Of course, Hermione realized later, it could have also been the front row view of her knickers. He continued to stare up her skirt and she continued to ignore him, and the fan girls continued to giggle. When she had finally had enough of the giggling girls and the unhelpful boy her hair was a fire engine red and she spun around with a tack still in her mouth.

The quick motion caused her to lose her already precarious perch on the ladder, and her hair was bleached of color by the time Blaise caught her. He smirked again, that dreadful little Slytherin smirk that stretched across his face, showing the most blindingly white teeth to ever exist. It crinkled up his eyes and she knew with a sudden irrational burst of reason that he was going to have crow's feet when he grew up.

They would probably look good on him, though, there wasn't much that didn't. Not that she had been thinking about him or anything but it was a normal reaction. And she was approaching this from a purely analytical perspective. As Hermione thought about Blaise he watched with fascination as her hair turned from a amazing shade of white (the color suited her, she had nothing to worry about when getting old) to her once normal shade of brown) neither of them noticed the time that was passing around them until one of the gaggle of girls that always surrounded him burst into tears.

He thought she was a fifth year, Gryffindor, maybe Hufflepuff. "Blaise how could you. You said you loved me!" It was a lie, he was almost positive he didn't go for cradle robbing (unless the girl was very worth it) but it had a nasty result.

"You little whore!" One of the Slytherins jumped on her and suddenly, before he could even put Hermione down all of his girly minions were in a nasty catfight. He looked down at the girl in his arms, her hair had turned a sick green yellow. He recognized the green as disgust or loathing whichever feeling Malfoy managed to evoke in her. And it was the same yellow as her hair was whenever Weasley burst into a particularly funny turn of phrase.

He set her down gently before looking at his fan club. He went through his mental list of fight stoppers before he gave a big sigh. It wasn't loud but his fan girls, always attuned for the slightest sound from their prince. The girls stopped midway through pulling each others hair, or clawing at eyes too listen to what he was going to say. He fluttered his long eyelashes once, twice before lowering his voice and adding the slightest tinge of hurt to it. He muttered something in Italian about tomatoes and foolish love struck children before slowly turning on his heel.

The girls looked at each other and simultaneously rushed to get up and follow him. This resulted in them all ending on the floor again rubbing heads, shoulders and other body parts that had connected. They got up more slowly and flooded around Blaise, begging him to forgive them, and he gave a small smirk before he looked at Hermione again. Her hair hadn't changed, but now she was trying desperately not to laugh out loud. She was already rolling on the floor clutching her stomach.

Blaise kept his self-satisfied smirk as, with a flick of his wand, he sent all the decorations sailing to their rightful places.

The devil's minion crepe disentangled itself from where it was twisted about Hermione's limbs. (She noticed two things about it: 1) she must have not let go of it when she fell, and 2) it must be more magically enhanced than just the color. Paper made of crepe was not generally so strong.)

The streamers formed themselves into a beautiful, iridescent banner and draped itself all over the room, like fairy dust, just as Hermione had imagined it.

The garland made of gold and silver bubbles drifted up and flung itself artfully around the hall perfectly, along with everything else she had procured for the occasion.

When the golden-haired (literally gold, for now- out of awe) girl turned her honey-colored eyes back to the Head Boy, his smirk broadened.

"I'm surprised you didn't think of that charm earlier, Granger." He growled, flipping his shoulder-length hair out of his eyes. "It was much easier than finding a ladder in this place had to be. How'd you get one, anyway?"

Hermione's hair was tainted with that sickly color he'd noted earlier, but only for a moment. "I… conjured one, actually." She said, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. "But that was some incredible magic. How did you-?" She began, floundering out of amazement.

"Magic." Blaise said, turning and striding out of the room the way he came. "Come on, girls." He called to his giggling fan club. "Let's let Miss Granger get her work done."

And with that, he and the girls were gone, leaving Hermione alone in the empty room again to contemplate the entire confusing encounter. Her hair took on a lavender sheen as she puzzled over it.

Ron Weasley started to grow very fond of his wings after he had managed to fall off his broom for the third time. He was sure that the only thing that kept him from falling to a very painful death was the blue iridescent wings attached to his back. The others had laughed when they saw him hovering three feet off the ground his wings flapping languidly. He wasn't sure why exactly he kept falling off his broom, but he had a feeling that it had something to do with the Aphrodite incarnate sitting in the stands.

Hermione had taken pity on him and he was now in proper man clothes, with no heels. Thank god there were no heels anymore. He didn't see how chicks could stand it.

"Ron, get back on your damn broom! Ginny scored on you five times already!" He flushed and urged his wings to take him upwards. Unfortunately his control over his new appendages wasn't as well developed as he may wish and he ended up falling the rest of the three feet. He scowled darkly as his sister and best friend giggled insanely and he summoned his broom with an angry flick of his wrist.

Unfortunately he wasn't as good at controlling his anger and the spell that should have brought his broom flying smoothly into his hands ended up summoning all the brooms from the school. As soon as they arrived they began hitting him over the head.

He tried every spell he knew of, but they wouldn't freeze, or slow down, or burst into flames, or explode, or go attack his now uproariously laughing teammates. He managed to last five minutes before a particularly well place broom hit knocked him out.

Harry was amazed at how amazing he felt. He hadn't been this happy since… well… he couldn't quite remember just when, but it had been a while.

He wasn't getting out the Snitch today- they didn't need it, not really. His team was fabulous, they were a shoo-in for the Cup this year. He was euphoric. He just floated on his broom off to the side and watched them practice, occasionally shouting out compliments on form to the players.

And thinking of the one form he wasn't able to compliment from the pitch.

No. He told himself, shaking his head as he tore his eyes from her majestic visage as she arced across the sky on her broom. No, you cannot have these thoughts about her, she is Ron's sister. You are an awful, awful friend to be having these thoughts about her.

Still, though, her hair did glint most beautifully in the sun like that. Like a sunset. Or leaves in autumn. Or aged honey, thick and syrupy, in a jar.

She must look amazing in dress robes. Gray, he thought, a soft but sparkling gray would set off her skin and that hair…

Stop. He reminded himself, trying not to smile. Not only are you coveting your best friend's baby sister, you are thinking like an enormous poofter.

At the thought of the word poofter he started to giggle insanely. Combined with the laughter that was already wracking his body from his best friend's predicament it was enough to make him fall off of his broom. He hit the ground at almost the same time as Ron.

Ginny rolled her gray eyes and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "O.K. Team, great practice today. Beaters I need your help carrying the two idiots over there. Chasers, split up and find Hermione tell her to come to the hospital wing."

Hermione was still adding the finishing touches to the hall for the dance. It would take place the next day and she wanted it to be perfect. It was admittedly a lot easier to do the work once Blaise had come down. Not that he was doing the work but his love struck minions were eager to please and would gladly do anything he asked. She wanted to roll her eyes, really she did. But she couldn't help but be grateful and a little amused as he leaned back on one of the chairs like a king reclining on his throne and dictated orders. Until he started to order her around.

She hurled a 'Silencio!' and watched in amusement as Blaise tried to dictate but couldn't hear his voice. He tried again, once, twice and then he cast the counter-curse.

"Very amusing Hermione." He glowered at her and she gave a happy little smile as her hair turned a sunny yellow.

She looked up in surprise as two fifth years she recognized from the Quiditch team burst into the room. "Looked… everywhere…. finally….found… you…. Ron….Harry… Hospital wing" There were pants in between each of their words. As soon as their last words left their mouth Hermione's hair turned as white as her face and she took off running. The two chasers collapsed onto each other, they had run up and down ten flights of stairs and all over the castle before they thought to check in the ballroom.

Blaise hesitated a second before running after Hermione, vaulting effortlessly over the two incapacitated fifth years. He had much longer legs, being at least six inches taller then her, but she had the benefit of adrenaline on her side, plus an honest to god desire to see Potter and Weasley had, so they reached the hospital wing at almost the same time.

"What…. happened?" Hermione asked, breathing ragged and harsh, clutching a stitch in her side. Her two best friends in the world were laying unconscious, side by side, in the hospital wing.

Ginny looked up from the homework she'd been doing while sitting on the chair between the beds. "My idiot brother got attacked by broomsticks." She said curtly, jerking her head in the direction of the other redhead. "And Harry fell off his broom. He was laughing." She cocked her head to the side, a wisp of red hair falling across her eyes. "I'm not sure why. Probably at Ron, fluttering in the air with those ridiculous fairy wings of his." She rolled her eyes and made what was quite possibly the most obvious statement ever to occur to womankind:

"Boys. Can't live with them… can't Avada them."

Blaise smirked and shot her a sideways look out of those baby blues. "And why is that?"

Ginny blinked. She had noticed he was there, of course; you couldn't help but notice when Blaise entered a room, if for no other reason than the collective sigh that went through the female population. However, she hadn't really registered his presence the same way she'd comprehended Hermione's.

She blushed furiously, matching her hair. "I… erm… that is… I don't know?"

The Slytherin laughed raucously, causing Ginny to narrow her eyes angrily.

At that time, one of the boys began to stir, distracting their attention and saving Blaise from a Bat bogey hex and Ginny from a detention.

He was sure he was dead. He couldn't see anything but dark, and that was a very convincing argument in favor of dead. However, upon opening his eyes, he was flooded with a rush of white. He ached all over. Both of which placed him firmly in the "living" column.

"He's waking up!" A hushed voice hissed nearby.

Half the Quiditch team, along with about half those assembled in the stands, and the Head Boy and Girl, had gathered around his bed. He was amazed to note that his wings were fine- they'd curled up behind him on the bed.

He looked at the seemingly fragile appendages for another few moments before Hermione, noticing his lack of intrest in his surroundings figured out why he was so distracted. "Fairy wings (your wings) are very close to being unbreakable. They can withstand up to a ton of pressure placed upon them and they are unaffected by all spells that have been tested on them, which included the three unforgivables. Somewhat like griffins." He looked awed for a minute before reaching around and poking his wings as hard as he could, he ended up pulling his shoulder.

Everyone snorted as he yelped and jumped up, hitting his head on the edge of the bed which aggravated one of him many head wounds and promptly knocking him out again. Hermione and Ginny leaned on each other as they started laughing.

Pretty soon the whole hospital wing, with the exception of Blaise (who was muttering something about bloody nutty Gryffindors) were rolling around on the floor. It seemed to be happening a lot lately, Blaise had a sneaking suspicion that they were all on drugs. Maybe an over dose of cheery potion.

Madame Pomfrey came bustling into the room and kicked everyone out but Ginny, Hermione, and Blaise (much to the bemusement of every one, including Blaise). "Harry Potter seems to have a large amount of Cheery potion in his system. While I would normally not be adverse to this, it appears he also had an overdose of coffee and the combination of the two causes an effect not unlike the muggle ecstasy."

Blaise smirked triumphantly. 'I knew it!' was the predominant thought in his head.

Hermione gasped. Her hair blanched a worried off-white with a greenish tint. "Is he okay?" She asked, eyes huge and shining.

Madam Pomfrey just nodded. "I've gotten some antidote all mixed up, and once he wakes I'll have him drink it. Then we'll see about keeping it down to one stimulant at a time, hmm?"

Hermione nodded, looking at the ground when Blaise tried to meet her eyes. Her hair didn't change color in the slightest, but a light blush stained her cheeks.

Harry blinked. All of a sudden he had a terrible splitting headache. He blinked again. He was surrounded by white. Another blink and he saw the crowd of people around his bed: Hermione, Madam Pomfrey, and some Slytherin bloke he recalled having heard addressed by some girly name to the left. A fourth blink, and a final worried expression came into view.

"My angel." He muttered sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Madam Pomfrey had time to usher everyone out and shove the antidote down his throat before he realized with mortification what he'd said.


End file.
